


Ineffable Fathers

by teamchaosprez



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Babies, Established Relationship, Family Fluff, M/M, pregnancy ig but it's not really a traditional pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 05:02:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20168587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamchaosprez/pseuds/teamchaosprez
Summary: “Oh, not so much Warlock himself… I miss taking care of a child.”





	Ineffable Fathers

**Author's Note:**

> my friend and i have been talking about if crowley and aziraphale had a kid lately and this is the result of that... i wasn't sure whether to post this but she liked it so i guess it's goin up!

“You know what I miss?”

Crowley looked up from the plant he was watering. Aziraphale looked wistful and nostalgic, smiling faintly at the book he was reading. It had been several months now since Armageddon nearly destroyed the world, and life had settled into the same calm monotony that had existed for the last six thousand years and would likely - no, hopefully - continue for another six thousand. The pair had developed friendships with Anathema, Newt, and the Them and their parents… which would become somewhat painful when they inevitably outlived their human companions, but for now worked out just fine. He couldn’t really imagine what it was his husband missed, but he was just supportive enough to straighten up and ask, “What do you miss?”

“Taking care of Warlock.” He paused for just a moment, before quickly speaking again. “Oh, not so much Warlock himself… I miss taking care of a child.”

“His upbringing was more my job, you just got to hang out with some plants for a while and sometimes give him advice.” Crowley was not, as a matter of fact, all that fond of Warlock himself. The kid had grown up to be a bit of a wanker, less normal and more a spoiled brat with somewhat grey morals. He wondered what the world would see when that child got to grow up and be an adult… he could only hope he wouldn’t grow up to hold political office like his father.

Aziraphale scoffed softly, put a bookmark between open pages with an almost comical amount of care before closing his book and walking over to Crowley. The angel’s hands rested against his shoulders, and the soft smile on his husband’s face was enough to make the demon blush (hopefully relatively invisibly) and glance away. “That might have been our constant opposing lessons combining with his parents.” One hand straightened out the collar of Crowley’s jacket. “I think… if we had a child of our own… they might turn out a little better. No avoiding the apocalypse or fickle wealthy human parents, just us, doing what we think is right.”

The suggestion shocked him for a few moments. If there was one thing he’d expected from a quiet morning with Aziraphale, having the suggestion of becoming parents was  _ not _ it. “I dunno, Azi, Warlock  _ did _ turn out to be a little bastard, and we still don’t know if Beelzebub and Gabriel will figure out our little trick and want to punish us while we’ve got a little one running around…”

“We’ll make sure there’s somewhere safe for them to go. And we won’t have any reason to purposefully give them conflicting life lessons. And for what it’s worth… I think even when Warlock was too little to know anything, you made a pretty good caregiver.”

Oh, that gentle smile and those compliments were already enough to melt Crowley a little… and, really, he did like kids. Being a nanny to Warlock and acting as a cool uncle to the Them were both rather enjoyable, and that thought was already luring him in.

“I’ll think about it.”

* * *

Angels and demons were cut from the same cloth, so reproducing with each other was hardly a problem. Deciding  _ who _ was going to carry their child, however, was a difficult decision. Eventually, the responsibility fell on Aziraphale - it would be safer for a baby to grow in someone who spent most of his time around books and in restaurants than in someone who couldn’t seem to do anything underneath a hundred miles an hour in an old car, and he was the one who came up with the idea to have a child together, anyway.

Conception didn’t take very long to set in, and about four months after Crowley decided he was fond of the idea of raising a little one, Aziraphale announced gleefully that they were expecting. All doubts were cast aside in that moment, and the demon realized that he was absolutely  _ thrilled. _ He held his angel tightly, excited to have a family and actually  _ try _ to raise someone well instead of teaching them values of both evil and good. Life on Earth was safe so far, and neither of them had any reason to fear that heaven and hell were going to try again to end everything - not anytime soon, anyway. (And when they wanted their war again, well, Crowley and Aziraphale would try to prevent it again.)

Once the news had settled in and both had gotten time to be excited for it, though, there was a sudden realization that they were not prepared in the  _ least _ to welcome a child into the world. Not, technically, a problem - they still had quite a bit of time before the baby was born, and even after that they could get by with some diapers, formula, clothes, and a bassinet for a few months - but within a few weeks of learning the news, a squabble about where to put the nursery reached them.

“We aren’t putting a  _ baby _ in a dusty old room in the back of your bookshop,” Crowley hissed. “They could be allergic to dust for all we know, and it’s not exactly a  _ house _ anyway…”

“Well, we aren’t going to keep them in your flat either, I don’t want them listening to how horribly you verbally abuse your plants… what if they think you’re talking to them?”

“I would  _ never _ speak to our child like that, I’m offended you think I would…”

The squabble eventually ended when Aziraphale grew too frustrated to continue and stormed out of the room, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes - which, truthfully, only made it worse. He was embarrassed that he was getting so emotional over a little spat with his husband, whether the additional “hormones” that came with carrying a child were to blame or not.

Within an hour, though, he was returning to a very pouty Crowley and wrapping his arms around him, head resting against his chest where a heart would be in a human.

“Perhaps, if you speak to your plants a little softer, your flat would be fine.”

* * *

Childbirth for an angel was not quite the same as it was for a human in much the same vein pregnancy wasn’t. Something equal to hormones flared, but it was more because of a new energy forming within theirs; there was no swelling of the body, and there would be no painful pushing. After several months of waiting for a developing little ethereal being, one would simply… appear from the one carrying. And that was exactly what happened one afternoon while Crowley and Aziraphale lounged in the sleek modern bedroom in Crowley’s flat.

Having dozed off, Aziraphale jolted awake at the sudden odd sensation of something separating itself from him. “Crowley,” he breathed out - not in pain, necessarily, just overwhelmed, and his husband was beside him within moments. One hand wrapped around one of his, and a blinding light surrounded the both of them. It was over in a few minutes, and a squirming bundle of literal holy light was left on the angel’s chest, their fathers staring on with wide eyes. They coughed and cooed, two tendrils somewhat resembling arms stretching up. The demon gently took hold of the ends.

Being old beings, both of them had seen a newborn angel before. However, that was long before Crowley fell - the birth rate had stagnated somewhat when original sin took place and most of heaven’s energy started going toward the eventual end to the world, and, well, in hell they didn’t have much of any reason to want to have children. The light of their creation would be blinding in the dank atmosphere, after all, and nobody particularly wanted to risk having a  _ good _ being down there.

“Hello,” Crowley cooed, feeling himself melt in the presence of the newborn angel. “Hello, I’m your dad,” he repeated, rather overwhelmed with emotion. For now, though, he didn’t feel the need to hold it back, and so he allowed a couple of tears to spill down his cheeks.

Aziraphale held their child to his chest with one hand, and used the other to carefully cup Crowley’s cheek - a watery smile had appeared across his face as well. His focus was almost entirely turned to the newborn as he murmured, “You’re the most beautiful ethereal being I’ve ever seen…”

And then, a pause.

“We never decided on a name, did we?” Aziraphale asked. They overplanned for so much, discussed the nursery and how they would be raised, argued about whether or not to put them in human schools, argued about how they would handle time they both needed to be away from them, but not once did they discuss what the child would be  _ called. _ It was almost funny, he thought in his deep happiness. “Oh, how about William? After Shakespeare. I always did love his works…”

“Ugh.” Crowley rolled his eyes, though there was a limited amount of annoyance behind it. “We aren’t naming them after some bloke that wrote a few screenplays…”

* * *

Two months after the birth of their child, they began taking the form of a normal human baby. They were all chubby cheeks and gurgles, blond hair framing their face and yellow serpentine eyes blinking up at their proud fathers. Anathema was asked to babysit them rather early on, and found them a delight. They had cute looks, a natural charm that Crowley attributed to himself, and were developing properly. One thing they still lacked, however, was a name; there were multiple suggestions, of course, but none really  _ stuck. _ None seemed to fit them. So, for the first two months of their life, everyone had simply been referring to them as  _ baby. _

Shakespeare’s complete works may not have been the perfect bedtime story for an infant, but Aziraphale thought it an important step in raising a child, so he sat in the bookshop with the baby in one arm and a thick book in the other, reciting  _ Much Ado About Nothing. _ He thought his performance was rather nice and educational, giving each character a different voice. Baby giggled whenever he heard the voice his father gave Claudio. “Now you talk of a sheet of paper, I remember a pretty jest…”

He was cut off mid-line by the sound of Crowley’s car pulling up to the shop; the sound of Queen had become familiar enough to Baby in the first couple months of their life that they brightened and started cooing excitedly, wiggling in place like a little worm. “Are you trying to sing along to Freddie?” Aziraphale asked fondly, taking both of Baby’s hands in his own and gently waving their arms to the music for them until it stopped. As he entertained the infant, though, a sudden idea came into his head, and the door of the car closed outside, Crowley appearing in the door of the shop moments later.

“What if we name them Freddie?” Aziraphale asked, a bright smile on his face as he looked up at his husband. “They seem to quite like the sound of your Queen CDs, and I don’t know… it suits them.” He gently patted Baby’s cheek. “Freddie Mercury is a fine human to name a child after as well.”

The demon approached them, lifting Baby up in his hands and holding them up. They waved their arms, gurgling at their father until he tucked them into his arm and affectionately rubbed their tummy. “I suppose it fits them,” he gave his answer cooly, but the faint tilt upward at the corners of his mouth revealed how pleased he actually was with the decision. “Freddy Baby J. Crowley.”

“Must we keep Baby as the middle name?” He asked, mildly exasperated. He knew better than to ask what the J stood for by now.

“Eh, I’m pretty used to calling them Baby. Might be weird for both them and us if we change it so suddenly, yeah?”

“I suppose.”

Aziraphale sighed, but when he looked to young Freddie once again, he felt… a sense of hope. Hope for their future; hope that their child may grow up to be as in love with the planet and the human race as they were, ready to defend it from heaven and hell if need be.

But most of all, hope that they would have the courage to grow into themselves.

**Author's Note:**

> theyre baby  
please comment if you enjoyed!


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